


Confessions

by tuneinmymind



Series: Confessions [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:58:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuneinmymind/pseuds/tuneinmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Everybody has a secret…let yours out. Five lads. Five confessions. Five lives inexplicitly intertwined. University!AU. Lourry/Ziall</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis Part 1.1

Louis Part 1.1

**_Summary:_ ** _I’m in love with a grad student._

He really hadn't meant to say it, but like most things, it had just blurted out before he could stop himself, and the moment it had, he really wished he had more control of his mouth because the lad across from him had gone from soft edges and smirks to closed off and hard-edged.

If his mother were there he would have gotten a scolding and maybe a whack over his head, but as it was, he had been alone in San Francisco for a little over three weeks, so maybe he was doing things in hopes that his mum would show up and give him that familiar whack- no he wasn’t homesick, really.

Back to the point, though, he blurted it out and then felt terrible because he could see that he had completed fucked up any chance at becoming this lad’s friend and the lad was actually really beautiful, but he just couldn't help it sometimes, especially in the presence of beautiful people who made him feel awkward and insecure.

Perhaps it was his just-reaching-adulthood-ness (he hadn’t even turned eighteen yet, having a late birthday, and starting kindergarten earlier than most, which put him so that he was younger than most of his classmates).

So, he did what he always had, turning on his heels, and ran.

He barely made it a block before hitting one of the Cities absolutely horrid, upright (meaning in the vertical sense) hills before he stopped sprinting, and while he tried to catch his breath he found it was absolutely hopeless because he was losing it as quickly as it came.

He wanted to say that he couldn’t breathe because he was just terribly out of shape- he did just run a block at a full sprint and that’d almost be better than, well, _this_ ; this meaning, crying in the middle of the busy sidewalk by himself, sounding like a wheezing kid without his inhaler; but he’d been going to the gym for the past two weeks and he had gotten in good enough shape to be able to run a block without dying.

He just couldn’t breathe, or stop the tears that were cascading down his reddened cheeks faster than a waterfall.

So, he did the only logical thing (at least to him) and slumped against a building, stuffing his head in his arms and letting the sobs shake his whole body.

He almost wished he could say that he just felt bad about what he had said to that beautiful boy- “ _What are you looking at, faggot?”_ \- but he wasn’t crying about just that, although he did feel extremely guilty about it.

It was just…he missed home.

He missed his mothers’ cooking and his sisters being loud and his step-dad giving him advice and his room and his car and just his hometown in general.

The thing is, he couldn’t tell his mother any of this or she’d insist he come home, and they really didn’t have the money for that.

So, he ended up taking it out on a lovely looking bloke, who had merely bumped into him and then ended up staring at him (and maybe checking him out, he hoped, even if he didn’t have the right to since he opened his stupid mouth).

Regardless, his own words- and the other lad’s lack of them- had been enough to shoot him over the edge and into the depths of his homesickness, and here he was, sitting on the side walk, sobbing.

He was a little too caught up in trying to hide his sobs and slow down his tears, so much so that he didn’t notice when a pair of white trainers came to a halt right in front of him.

He did, however, hear an angry voice when it said, “What the actual fuck, man?”

The voice sounded out of breath, as if the person it belonged to had been running, but Louis didn’t bother looking up to see who it was, or if they were even speaking to him.

“I said, what the actual fuck?”

Louis looked up at that, though, because surely the person was talking to him- maybe he was blocking the entrance to their apartment?- and he still had a couple dribbles of tears on his cheeks when he was once more met with the sight of that pretty boy who Louis had called a bad name.

He cowered against the wall, scared of the lovely lad’s simmering anger- he also thought it was a shame for such a beautiful face to ever be distorted with such an emotion.

“Do you think it’s okay to call someone that and then just run away?” the bloke spoke in a softer tone than before, and there was some sense of urgency in his question.

Louis didn’t think the lad could get any more enticing, but his voice was smooth and silky and he pushed away the thought to piss him off more just so that Louis could listen to him speak more.

He still didn’t speak up, though, because he already knew what he had said was something he shouldn’t say to anyone ever, especially since he had been on the receiving end of it more than a few times and knew how the word hit the deepest part of one’s heart.

“What? So you can speak enough to call me a _faggot_ , but not to my face when I say something back? Stand up and say something.”

Louis struggled to his feet- his knees were quivering a bit- and he hunched in on himself, closing his eyes to the blow that was sure to come.

He felt the air of a moving body part come close to his body, and he visibly winced at that, not looking forward to reliving high school again, but then, all he felt was the vibrations of someone entering his personal space.

Louis kept his eyes shut, though, just in case.

“What are you afraid of?” the soft voice was right against his ear, now, and he shivered.

It had been a while since someone was this close.

“What? Did you think I was going to hit you?”

He was unable to hold back to sob that caught in his throat, and it came out as more a whimper, whether because of the proximity or because of trepidation, he wasn’t quite sure.

“The thing is-“ the boy breathed against his jaw, and Louis wondered what this looked like to passerbys. Did they look like happy couple? “-hitting someone like you- someone who feels the way you do about me, isn’t the most painful thing I can do.”

And then, Louis’ eyes blinked wide open because lips were pressing insistently against his and he fell slack for a moment.

Just for a moment, though, before he was fully aware of what was happening.

This boy obviously thought he was a homophobe- his words certainly made him out to be one- and had thought kissing him was a punishment.

Of course, the lad couldn’t be more wrong, and Louis kissed back with force and proceeded to take control, flipping their stances so that he had the lad pushed against the wall instead, and-

“Oh-“

Louis didn’t allow room for words, licking his tongue into the mouth it was pressed against.

He had the lad’s arms pinned by the wrists against the wall by this point.

Louis liked being in control like this.

He pulled away, noticing the brown eyes that were dazed and staring back at him.

Dipping his head he pressed a soft kiss to the lad’s jugular, sliding up the sharp jawline before reaching his earlobe.

“The thing is-“ Louis tightened his grip to stop his hands from shaking, “-this isn’t painful, and you don’t know anything about me.”

He couldn’t help if his voice came out softer than he wanted, but it still had a harsh hissing quality that satisfied his inner dominant streak.

The lad looked at him, clearly shocked, and Louis bent in the kiss him roughly one more time.

It was over just as fast as it started and Louis pushed away from the wall, turning on his heels once more and walking away briskly, as if he hadn’t been unbearably rude to that lad, cried his eyes out, and then, snogged the guy as if they were in love (or lust, maybe).

He didn’t run this time, keeping his pace even and measured, and he reached the edge of the grass of the park by his flat when it happened.

In fact, he wasn’t even sure _what_ was happening, all he knew was his body lurched forward roughly and he couldn’t breathe from lack of air (the ground knew how to hit in a way more affective than fists, he thought briefly).

He could have laughed when the body that had taken him out twisted him onto his back and he was looking up at the same bloke from a minute or so ago.

As it was, he wheezed out, “What the actual fuck?”

(Like he even had a right to ask such a question with his own behavior).

The boy scoffed, squeezing his thighs around Louis’ hips as if to keep him there, not that Louis could move even if he tried, he was still trying to catch his breath.

“I asked you first.”

“What are we in kindergarten?” Louis felt like he was, certainly, but it had nothing to do with this pretty person’s actions and everything to do with his own (added with his unbearable homesickness).

“What do you get off on?” Came the sharp retort, almost as edged as the cheekbones of the lad it came from.

“Getting forcibly tackled, obviously.”

“I don’t get you.”

“I never asked you to. Now get _off_ of me.”

“I can get _you_ off.” And then, “Not until you tell me why you called me such a rude name and then kissed me back, though.”

Louis was definitely being helplessly insolent again, and he wanted to stop, but it was as if he had no control over his words at all.

“Why do you care?”

“Because.”

“You’re pretty.” Louis shrugged, acting indifferent. He wasn’t lying at all, either.

“You’re rude because I’m _pretty_?” The boy sounded incredulous.

Louis didn’t blame him.

He was a bit awed at the situation, too, particularly the part that included him being straddled by said pretty lad on a grass hill of a very public park.

At least it was a nice day, though. He couldn’t imagine being tackled into muddy grass would be this pleasant.

“I miss my mum, too,” Louis added, honestly.

The lad went limp as he let out a full-bellied laugh at Louis’ statement, to which Louis frowned because he was being serious, and cool, thanks a lot.

Louis used all his arm and body strength to force the still-laughing lad off of him, and he stood up in harsh, jagged movements, brushing grass off of his bum.

“You know what, fuck you,” Louis spit out, and he couldn’t help it if his eyes teared up a little because he really did miss his mother and somehow someone laughing at him about it made him feel a little embarrassed and as if it were insignificant to have such an emotion.

The laughing stopped, though, when Louis angrily wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye.

“You’re being quite serious, aren’t you?”

There was a warm body all up in his personal space once more.

He nodded.

“Do you go to San Francisco Conservatory of Music, then?”

He nodded again.

“First year?”

And again.

“Well, come along then, let’s get some tea.”

A hand slipped into his, and he felt the rough fingertips- string player, he thought- and let himself be tugged along, his eyes still trained on the ground.

~O~

“So, have you two been friends for years, then?”

“Well…”

“Here’s a story for ya…”

“We actually just met a couple weeks ago.”

“Zayn wanted my dick, you see-“

“Actually, Louis tried some painful chat up lines on me and it was so helpless that I couldn’t help but-“

“He sucked me off in a lecture hall, during a seminar-“

“Lou was crying because he lost his favorite vibrator.”

“Hey, I liked Ted a lot!”

Louis and Zayn burst into laughter, sharing a look only they could understand, and the girl, or woman rather, with whom they were talking just gave them a confused look.

“I’m sorry, in proper English, please?” she asked, taking a bite of cheese pizza afterwards and chewing slowly, all the while, watching the two lads across from her.

The two were crammed into one side of the booth- and it was technically intended for one person- but they seemed to have a lack of personal space, practically draped upon one another, legs and arms and chests intertwining.

“I was being a right twat and said some rude things-“

“He was too nervous because of my prettiness,” Zayn added proudly with a smirk.

Louis ignored him and continued, “-and I was a tad homesick, and then, Zayn mauled me against a wall, and I showed him I was actually in control-“

“This is so skewed from the truth,” Zayn muttered under his breath.

Louis elbowed him with a sharp glare.

“Remember our agreement? Anyway, and then, after I had walked away, Zayner decided he couldn’t get enough of me, so he tackled me in a public park with full intentions of an exhibitionist display, but I told him he had to buy me tea first,” Louis stated with finality, his expression completely serious, and if it hadn’t been for the twinkle in his blue eyes it might have been believable.

The girl/woman- she was in the in between phases of not quite a girl but not quite a woman- cackled warmly.

“I’m never going to get a straight answer from you two, am I?”

Louis had the gall to look majorly offended as he gasped, gaining the attention of other pizza eaters, and Zayn’s eyes lit up with an excitement that only Louis had managed to put there ever since the semester had begun.

“S’a true story, Dani,” Zayn slid his best straight face, but wasn’t as skilled as Louis and ended up slipping a smile, which he hid behind his hand.

Dani as her close friends called her, or Danielle as her mother would say, continued to eat, watching Zayn and Louis’ interactions with each other.

Zayn had known her for a while, and was just introducing Louis to her.

“Did you ever end up having that exhibitionist display? Or is there still time to purchase tickets?” Dani asked, the mirth clear on her face as she teased the pair.

Louis had the decency to blush a little and seem sheepish, while Zayn just smirked widely, wiggling his eyebrows obscenely.

“We can get you a private showing if you’d like,” Zayn offered around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

Louis stabbed a piece of lettuce with his fork, damn Zayn and Dani and their fast metabolisms.

Zayn must have noticed the anger he was taking out on the salad, though, because he tightened the grip of his hand, which had been loosely sprawled on Louis’ thigh.

“How’s Liam?” Zayn questioned lightly, playing it off as a simple inquiry, and while Louis didn’t know whom Liam was, he figured there was a deeper meaning to Zayn’s question.

Danielle laughed again, but it wasn’t the carefree type like earlier, and Louis sensed some discomfort there.

“You know him, always practicing! But he’s good otherwise, we have a gig this Friday, you two should come,” she sighed, her large poof of curly hair bouncing a bit as she nodded her head, as if convincing herself of something.

Now Louis really wanted to know who Liam was, and-

“Who’s Liam?”

“Danielle’s lover, or wannabe lover that is ‘cause she’s too wimp to ‘ruin their friendship’ as she says-“

“Ow!” Louis exclaimed, lifting his gaze from the salad through which he was slowly picking, to find Danielle looking at him with an apologetic face.

“Sorry,” she said. “That was meant for _Zayn_.”

Danielle’s glare could have lit the building on fire, and Louis made a mental note not to get on her bad side.

“Liam is my best friend-“

“ _Lover_ ,” Zayn coughed behind a hand.

“ _Best friend_ ,” Danielle emphasized, narrowing her gaze at Zayn again.

Louis wanted to tell Zayn to shut up, but resorted to just covering his mouth with a hand.

“We grew up together,” Danielle offered, as if it helped strengthen her side of the argument.

It didn’t, really, in Louis’ mind, and if Zayn had anything to go by there was more to the story, but having just met Danielle, it wasn’t really his place to pry.

It did, however, make him think of his best friend at home, and he made a mental note to call, or skype, or even text Stan later that night.

“How’s Danny?” Danielle inquired, dropping a used napkin on her now empty plate and grabbing for her water cup with long fingers.

Danny was Zayn’s boyfriend back home.

They had dated for about four years now, and when Zayn had transferred to San Francisco Conservatory of Music to pursue music on a more in depth level they had decided to try the whole long distance relationship thing.

Louis, upon hearing this, had gotten really worried because Zayn had kissed him on the first day they met, but upon getting tea that same day, Zayn explained everything to him (and called Danny and talked to him about it), and they had been friends ever since.

“He’s good,” Zayn replied shortly, not expanding or delving any more on the topic.

Louis had noticed that he got this way sometimes, when he had thoughts or feelings he wasn’t quite ready to share.

Of course, Danielle had known Zayn for longer, and was able to prod in a way Louis wasn’t able.

“Just good?”

Zayn shrugged, “Ya know, just gets lonely sometimes with him so far away.”

Danielle’s face softened for a moment, and Louis noticed that she might have a bit of a mothering streak (but it seemed every woman had some internal mothering within them somewhere).

“I know, Zee,” she nodded, voice soft while she reached across the table and squeezed Zayn’s hand, which was loosely balanced on the table.

Louis felt almost like an intruder for a moment, and he hadn’t seen Zayn so subdued as of yet in their relationship, but then, Danielle made a comment about it being Saturday and wanting to have some proper fun, and the fleeting moment had disappeared completely when she mentioned alcohol.

~O~

“Hey, mom,” Louis slipped his phone against his ear, clutching it tightly and trying to juggle his books in one arm.

_“Hi honey! How are you?”_

He wanted to say that his eyes were just watering from the stinging cold of the early morning San Francisco air, but, well, he just couldn’t, not when it sounded so nice hearing his mother’s voice again.

“Good, good. I’ve been busy. How are you and the girls?” Louis questioned, wanting to hear more about his family than talk about himself. He had been talking to Lottie a bit through texting, and Skyped with Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy, but that was only a jumble of ‘Louis!’s and ‘Guess what I did at school today, Lou!’s.

He barely missed stepping out in front of a cab, and decided it might be a good thing if he didn’t cry over a simple phone call and get hit by a car.

_“Missing their big brother like crazy! I miss you too, LouBear.”_

“Me too.”

_“How are lessons going?”_

Louis was glad to talk about lessons, and was excited to share his progress with his mother.

Even with his scholarship they were paying a decent chunk of money for him to study Vocal Performance, and he wanted his mother to know that he wasn’t just throwing it all away.

“Really great. My new teacher is having me do a lot of exercises to work on breathing and relaxing my throat. I feel like I’ve already improved in the month and a half that I’ve been here.”

_“I’m so glad to hear that, darling.”_

“Uhm- I called to ask- well I mean I miss you, and I’ve been meaning to call to catch up anyway, it’s just been busy and whenever I have some free time it’s late and-“

Jay cut him off, stopping his rambling in the middle of the sentence. He tended to do that a lot when he was nervous or didn’t know what to say and his mother knew him too well.

_“Louis. Just ask, yeah?”_

“Well, do we- uhm- am I going to be able to come home for Thanksgiving break? I mean, it’s only four days, so I dunno if it’s worth buying a plane ticket, and I know money is tight, but I just- _I miss you_.”

And if his throat tightened and made it hard to breath at that omission, well, he just tried inhaling a little harder, halting his walking movements in favor of leaning against a wall so that he didn’t have to deal with homesickness and walking at the same time.

He was close enough to his classroom, anyway, and wouldn’t be late if he stopped walking for a little bit.

_“Oh, Lou.”_

Jay wasn’t quite pitying him, but the way she said his name just made it feel like he was a little too old to miss home and his mother’s tight, warm hugs.

“Don’t make me feel more embarrassed for saying that.”

_“Fine. Fine. But yes. I’ve been pulling a couple extra shifts here and there and Mark has too because we want you to be able to come home. It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without you here to set the kitchen on fire.”_

“That was once!” Louis laughed, but he was feeling much better already, knowing that he would see his family soon, and didn’t have to worry about spending Thanksgiving alone.

_“We miss you all the same.”_

The tightness was back, but this time paired with a blinding smile.

“…Thanks, mom.”

_“Of course.”_

“Uhm- I have class, but I’ll call this weekend?”

_“Sounds good. Keep up the good work.”_

“Love you.”

_“Love you, too.”_

Louis practically skipped to his next class, and when Zayn asked what he was smiling about, he just winked in reply.

~O~

The coffee house was bustling with people, which only made sense with the weather being absolutely freezing. The wind outside was blowing hard, and it was the type of wind that had people clutching at their hats/scarves/hair/papers as they hurried down the street, in a rush to escape from the frigid air.

It had stopped raining, finally, but earlier droplets had been pouring down like tears, slanted from the wind, assaulting victims who weren’t lucky enough to own a car, which seemed to be the majority of San Francisco because of the cities terrible parking system.

Louis had been sprawled out at a table in the corner of the coffee house with his books spread across the small circular table for about four hours now, give or take a couple minutes.

He had ducked into the place- it was the one he and Zayn often frequented- shaking water off of his black pea coat, and immediately ordered tea.

His original plan had been to wait the rain out- he thought it would clear up once he had finished his tea- and he had made it through two cups before realizing he might be there for a while, which led to him drinking about five cups of tea and struggling through a chapter of theory.

Soon enough, though, people seemed to be thinking on the same wavelength, and the coffee house was bustling and lively with people, making it difficult for Louis to concentrate.

He decided to take a break from theory, and began people watching, only to realize that the place was filled with _couples_.

Louis had no problem with this, of course- not the tall mousy looking girl and her too short boyfriend who looked disgustingly in love, or the gorgeous bloke with the equally as gorgeous girl- no he had no problem with it at all.

He didn’t even want a relationship because from his experience, relationships seemed to complete crap (or maybe he was crap at them or crap at choosing people with whom to be in them), but regardless, he neither had the time or energy to deal with a relationship.

But, with that being said, sometimes it did get lonely, and well, he did want _someone_.

Like, someone to cuddle with and to talk to (not constantly of course, he needed his space) and to have sex with and kiss and stuff.

He could do without the arguments and the feelings and the holding hands and being romantic, but he had needs, and currently, they weren’t being met.

Louis started packing up his books, sliding them in his backpack with the biggest ones in back. The rain looked like it let up long enough for him to make it back to his room without getting soaked again.

He stood up and made his way through the crowd, making sure not to step on anyone’s stuff and heading towards the bathroom to pee out at least two of the five cups he had inhaled in the past four hours.

_Text message: From: Zayn Malik 5:37 PM: Come to mine for pizza and a movie._

“Oomph.”

Louis looked up from the text from Zayn after butting shoulders with a man quite a bit taller than him.

“Sorry mate,” he muttered, barely meeting the person’s eyes and only getting a flash of brown, curly hair and a hint of green or blue eyes.

Before slipping into the bathroom he texted Zayn back with ‘of course’ and decided that maybe what he had with Zayn would be enough for now, if only Zayn didn’t have a boyfriend.

~O~


	2. Part 1.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: I’m in love with a grad student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapters = more frequent updates, so that's what I've decided to do! The first parts of this fic might be kind of slow going, but I'm trying to set up later stuff. The storyline is currently indefinite so hopefully it'll be a longer fic! Also on my tumblr --> tunein-mymind. (: .xx

It was the first weekend back from Christmas break when it happened.

Louis was already so surprised that an entire semester had gone by that he hadn’t even noticed the changes in their relationship.

It was just, like, it gradually morphed into something more than friendship and while he hadn’t noticed it while it was happening- for obvious reasons, like maybe the boyfriend Zayn had waiting at home- when Zayn asked him to dinner, he noticed the change.

_“So, I was thinking we could go out to eat tonight,” Zayn said quietly, and Louis was used to soft comments like this, he rather liked Zayn when he was soft around the edges, but Zayn was fidgeting and he never fidgeted._

_Louis agreed quickly, and it wasn’t until later, when Zayn mentioned he and Danny were on a break, that Louis even wondered if this dinner thing was meant to mean something more than what he originally thought._

_By then, though, they had gotten back to Zayn’s flat and were putting in a movie and sitting on the couch when Zayn snuggled into Louis’ side._

Louis thought that was that- a one time cuddle.

Sure, Zayn and Danny were on a break but what did that have to do with him?

He and Zayn were just friends, although in this moment, when they were cuddled on the couch- Louis had arrived at Zayn’s place a few days after their dinner thing and Zayn demanded, “I want cuddles, Lou. Cuddles. Now.”- it was beginning to feel as if their ‘break’ did involve him a bit.

He didn’t ask, though, because he had never asked about Danny.

Danny was kind of that unmentioned elephant-in-the-room topic.

Louis didn’t think about it long enough to know why.

So here he was, cuddling with Zayn on the couch, and it felt really nice, for once. That is, having someone there.

He had gotten used to being alone- falling asleep alone, going to class alone, eating most meals alone- that being close with someone was something he appreciated a lot.

Zayn hadn’t been this touchy-feeling before though, and that was something Louis thought about a lot.

Like, why he was suddenly being really cuddly.

Louis decided it was just because Zayn was lonely and he got that, really, he did, because he was lonely too.

So, if they were going to be lonely together, well, he wouldn’t stop it.

~O~

“Zayner,” Louis mumbled into his phone, trying desperately to remember where his keys were. He fumbled around in his pocket, finally coming up triumphant and holding his keys in his hand tightly.

He shivered slightly, from the cold air against his sweaty body.

“Lou?” Zayn’s voice came from the phone lodged between his head and shoulder, and Louis had almost forgotten he had called the other lad.

“Zayner!” Louis said louder, as if to remind himself of why he was on the phone in the first place.

He didn’t even bother trying to open the door at this point.

“Lou?” Zayn asked again, and Louis realized he probably woke him up. There was a little bit of silence from Zayn’s side that Louis wanted to fill but he was a little worried he’d say something embarrassing. “Are you drunk?”

“How’d you know?” Louis asked suspiciously, eyeing his keys as if they had told Zayn or something.

He continued to study the shape of the bronze key as if it offended him, but Zayn was right and he _was_ drunk- or rather, _is_ drunk, still.

Zayn laughed, and it sounded like he was getting up, what with the rustles coming from his side of the phone.

“Whaddya need, Lou?” Zayn questioned, not accusingly, but as if he knew what Louis was going to ask, or wanted to ask.

“See, you and Danny are on a break, yeah?” Louis began, and oh god was he going to regret this in the morning, but he couldn’t stop himself now that he had begun. “And like, that’s fine and dandy, but I don’t get what it means. Like if I kissed you tonight, or tomorrow, would you be cheating? God, would _I_  be the other man?”

Zayn was silent.

As in, completely silent, but only for a moment, and then, his voice was coming over the line soothingly.

“Lou, we’re on a break. Meaning, we’re taking time to figure things out on our own. So, like, if you kissed me, Danny would be fine with it.”

And- uhm, “Wow. Really?”

Zayn chuckles, dark and low and rumbly. “Yes, really.”

Louis wondered if he was making a fool of himself.

“You’re really pretty.”

Yeah, he probably is.

“Yeah?” Zayn keeps laughing at him.

Louis doesn’t think he’s being funny, just making observations.

He definitely is making a fool out of himself.

He’s also still standing in front of his room, keys in hand.

“Can I come over?” He asks quickly, as if he had to say it fast or Zayn would definitely say no.

“Sure. Text me when you’re here and I’ll let you up.”

Louis nods in affirmation, but he’s on the phone so Zayn can’t see and then-

“Wait.”

Zayn does so, patiently, even.

“I mean…well, I asked about Danny, but like- would _you_ be okay with me kissing you?”

And then there’s that damn laugh and it does things to Louis’ stomach, making it churn and turn from excitement or arousal or god knows what emotion, he really was never good a discerning one from another.

“Just come over, Lou.”

~O~


	3. Louis Part 1.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m in love with a grad student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short, but the shorter the chapters the sooner the updates! It's finals week boooo but I'm procrastinating studying a bit haha Anyway, feedback is always helpful! (: .xx

“Just do it already,” Louis demands, pushing at Zayn’s shoulder forcefully when the other lad just continues to suck and smirk against his neck. “Jesus, Z, if you don’t get on your knees right this second…”

Louis’ words cut off with a moan because Zayn followed through with his request, dropping to his knees and undoing Louis’ jeans in one fluid motion.

He loses his grip on reality for a bit because, well, because someone is sucking his penis into their mouth in a skillful way, and it’s been a long time of just him and his hands and that just doesn’t quite compare at all to _this_.

“You do know,” Zayn comments, holding Louis’ base tightly as he breathes. “Mmph.” Zayn takes him back in, an inch or so from taking Louis’ full length. “Dani will be here in like three minutes.”

Louis inhales deeply because, “What the fuck, Z? My cock is in your mouth and all you can think about is that Dani will be here soon?”

Zayn exhales cool air onto Louis’ tip and he’s building, close, trying not to ruin the moment by thinking about Danielle showing up in a couple of minutes because jesus, he can’t remember any of his past girlfriends or boyfriends being as good at sucking cock as Zayn.

Maybe he should try to make their arrangement into something more than a way to quell loneliness by adding benefits to their friendship.

This thought was gone as soon as Zayn swallowed him down again, Louis’ tip hitting the back of his throat, which wasn’t an easy feat, Louis knew, and Louis was groaning. “Close. ‘m close, Z.” Zayn just held him there, doing this weird- but amazing- suction thing with his mouth and Louis was on the verge.

The knock on the door came simultaneously with Louis.

“Go clean up, I’ll distract Dani,” Zayn instructed, smirking at Louis again, who was leaning against the bedroom wall in a blissed out, post-orgasmic haze.

Louis stayed there for another minute, thinking friends with benefits was one of the best things he could have done to his relationship with Zayn, most definitely.

Orgasms plus less loneliness plus hanging out with his best (read one of his only) friends at school? The perfect situation surely. Why people wanted actually relationships was absolutely beyond him.

~O~

Actually having sex with Zayn was…interesting.

Louis knew he couldn’t really expect it to be amazing, at least not the first time while they were just beginning to learn the nooks and crannies of each others bodies.

It had taken him at least a month with his first boyfriend to get past the awkward, fumbling stage, and he hadn’t really expected it to be different with Zayn.

He was certainly surprised when sex with Zayn exceeded his expectations, and he found that each time they tried again, it just got better and better.

It was a good thing, obviously.

What made it even better, though, was that it didn’t seem to affect their friendship.

They still hung out and joked and played video games and pigged out on food together, and that was a major relief.

Currently, Louis was studying at Zayn’s kitchen table, while Zayn showered before class.

The kitchen was small, but it had a large counter with tall, cushion-covered wicket chairs. Louis had helped Zayn choose the cushions, picking the most ostentatiously bright pattern he could. It definitely helped liven up the room, popping out against the plain white walls.

He had his school supplies covering the entire granite counter- multiple notebooks, his computer, pencils, and scattered papers littering the surface with crumbs sprinkled in between.

“Hey babe.” Louis looked up from his homework to see Zayn wander in the room, clad only in a towel. He made to answer, but then saw the phone tucked next to Zayn’s ear. “Yeah, spring break isn’t for a while.” Zayn pauses while passing by Louis, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I know.” Louis watches as a stray drop of water slides down the other lad’s back, and he feels somehow domesticated, which, like, how did that happen. “Yeah I miss you, too,” Zayn mumbles with a piece of toast in his hand, and Louis wonders if feeling domesticated was supposed to go along with other feelings, too, like adoration and love and something other than lust.

Thing is, he does adore Zayn, but not quite in the way he should, and all he really feels in this moment is a deep heat coiling in his lower belly because Zayn is beautiful, even when Louis knows he’s talking to Danny.

And Louis does know that, how Zayn and Danny still keep in touch and they’re just taking a break and him and Zayn aren’t anything serious (they had discussed it and both decided just having fun was best) and it really doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

He’s been happy with Zayn, both of them using each other to quell the loneliness that easily overtook them in this big city.

Crazy, really, how one could be lonely in a city bustling with people, but it was easy to get lost in anonymity in a big city like San Francisco. He couldn’t imagine what LA or New York or London might feel like, he’d probably lose himself in the lights and the clubs and the never-sleeping population.

The only reason he feels somewhat grounded right now is because of Zayn and his music and his daily phone calls to his mother. But even with music he feels lost sometimes, like on off days when his vocal teacher knows he can’t quite focus, or when she gives him an exercise that he just _can’t_ do for the life of him, no matter how much he practices it or tries.

On those days, it feels like he’ll never achieve anything, not become anyone, and just be plain old Louis Tomlinson.

Other days, though, being just Louis Tomlinson seems enough for him.

“Zayner,” Louis calls, biting the end of his pencil hard as he glares at the homework in front of him. He detested theory with a passion, even if he knew it would help him in the long run. “Will you show me how to do those diminished seventh chords? I just- I can’t remember how to do them.”

Zayn walks out of his room- with jeans on this time, Calvin Klein briefs sticking out along his hips- and smirks at Louis.

“I just showed you how to do those, Lou.”

Louis sighs, “Yeah, _yesterday_.”

“You do know I can’t be there for your final so you’re going to need to remember these,” Zayn says, but he’s leaning over Louis’ back and grabbing the pencil from his mouth, beginning to explain anyway.

Zayn has to show Louis twice because he gets distracted by Zayn’s abs against his back the first time.

~O~


	4. Part 1.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: I’m in love with a grad student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been a while! This is currently still Zouis, but will eventually be Lourry and Ziall (: .xx

The thing about having a friend with benefits is that it was satisfying for a while, the sex was good and the friendship was even better. It was nice not having to be serious for once, not having to deal with ‘I love yous’ and fights and answering to someone.

At the same time though, a true relationship adds more dimension to everything. Knowing that someone really loves you and will do anything for you and will be there through thick and thin is just…it’s almost something human beings crave, after, that is, the sex.

Louis thinks he was made to be a relationship person, a closet romantic, perhaps. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t quite found the right person, because he wants it _too much_.

He wishes he could be in love with Zayn and that Zayn could be in love with him. His life would be easier, most likely.

Life never quite works out the way he wants it, though.

“Zayner,” Louis shouts, trying to catch up to his friend through the crowd of people. He hurries to reach Zayn, who stopped at Louis’ call, but it’s slow progress and he’s moving like a salmon swimming upstream. A couple gives him a dirty look when he accidentally trips into them, and he glares back, muttering a little, “Sorry”. Finally, he reaches the other lad. “Jesus, that was a struggle.” Louis wipes a hand at his forehead, swiping back the sheen of sweat covering his skin.

“It’s hot,” Zayn grumbles in reply, tugging his black sweater tighter to his body as if pulling the clothing closer would cool him off. His usual tall quaff stands tall, though, which is either a testament to the strength/amount of his hair gel, or just shows that he doesn’t sweat a bit.

They start moving again, slowly, picking their way through the crowded sidewalk. Various people are walking around them, men in business suits with briefcases, women in too high heels and too tight skirts, parents pushing babies in strollers, a tall curly-haired lad with a northface backpack and lanky legs (Louis thinks he’d like to run a hand through the guys’ nest of curly brown locks), and other students all rushing to class or studying notecards with their heads down, somehow stepping around the cracks and edges and people without even looking.

Louis and Zayn were on their way to a music seminar, one required of all students, in which they sat and listened to someone (a professor or grad student usually) speak about their work.

“I wonder who’ll be speaking today,” Louis muses out loud, running a hand up and down the edge of his notebook.

“That grad student, I think,” Zayn replies, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it with a heart-covered lighter. “I think he passed us a second ago. Henry Styles or summat.”

Louis scrunches his nose as a trail of smoke hits his face. “Hey, watch the smoke, you tosser. I need to conserve my lungs.” He waves his arms around melodramatically in an attempt to get the smoke away from his air path.

“Singers,” Zayn mutters under his breath, but he blows the smoke away from Louis nonetheless with a casual turn of his neck and a ‘o’ of his lips.

Louis studies his friend’s profile casually, reaching a hand out to run his fingers down Zayn’s jawline.

“Hm?” Zayn turns.

Louis shakes his head. “You have nice facial bone structure.”

~O~

“Zayner. Zee. _Zayn Malik_.” Louis hisses, elbowing Zayn, who was sitting next to him, pointedly ignoring each elbow jab as if Louis was an annoying fly that kept coming a little too close. “Is he real? Tell me he’s real. Please. Pinch me. Something.”

Zayn doesn’t move his head, but his arms shoots out, whacking Louis in the stomach with a resounding ‘thwack’. He stares forward still, resting his arm back at his side as if he hadn’t just hit someone with it.

“Ow! Fuck!” Louis cries out, louder than he intended, his eyes watering a little and forehead wrinkling. His hands protect his stomach, rubbing lightly against his shirt. Luckily they’re far enough back in the lecture hall that the little exchange went mostly unnoticed, at least by the professor in charge of running the seminar.

The students sitting near Louis and Zayn glare a little, and the curly-haired lad speaking to the class glances in their direction.

Louis slides down in his seat as the grad student’s gaze lands right on him. He tries for a cheeky smile and little hand wave, but his lips end up turning half down, half up and his hand just moves limply in the air before he just drops his head into his lap entirely.

“He can’t see me can he?” Louis whispers, eyes shut and hands over the back of his head.

Zayn cackles as quietly as he can, replying, “Oh he definitely can.”

Louis groans, and realizes hiding is no use. The curly-haired lad is speaking again, though, so he figures he might be safe to emerge once more. Of course, he regrets his decision the minute he sits up fully, his spine straight and head pulled up as if he were a puppet. The grad student is still looking right at him.

“What was his name?” Louis asks out of the side of his mouth, not bothering hiding in embarrassment again, even if his cheeks are flaming like a flamingo burnt by the sun. He continues to watch as the grad student finally looks away, all the while continuing with his speech.

“Harry Styles. I think he’s studying composition,” Zayn nods in response, still not really paying any attention to Louis.

The grad student, Harry Styles, is the guest speaker in their seminar that day, brought in to speak about his upcoming concert and answer any questions. Unlike most of the professors who have spoken in the past, he’s dressed casually in tight black skinny jeans with leather patches over the knees and a navy button up with hearts on it, buttoned up to the collar. His curly hair keeps flopping into his eyes, and he talks with his hands a lot, waving them around before pushing the brown hair from his vision. He occasionally reaches into his Northface backpack to grab a pen or paper or metal water bottle.

Harry talks slowly, and Louis doesn’t really hear a single word he says, but rather, listens to the flow and lilt of his low voice. Before he realizes, Zayn is nudging him to stand up, and he realizes the class is over and Harry isn’t speaking anymore.

Louis looks up at Zayn, his eyes glazed over. “I’ve found my future husband.”

“Who? Styles?” Zayn laughs loudly, not bothering to stay quiet anymore since the seminar ended.

Louis nods emphatically, his head shaking violently.

“Funny, Lou. He’s gonna be your TA for theory next quarter, don’t quite think that’ll go over well.”

Louis stands, his legs locking straight. “Is that illegal?”

“What?” Zayn gives him a confused look.

“Hooking up with your TA?”

“Oh no, Boo. Don’t even think about it.” Zayn ushers Louis from the lecture hall, tugging him along with Louis lags a bit, looking over his head to get one last glimpse of the curly-haired grad student.

~O~


	5. 1.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: I’m in love with a grad student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Slowly working on this (: .xx

“I think Harold Edward Styles was put on this Earth to kill me,” Louis announces loudly, slamming his books down on the round wooden table at which Zayn was sitting. A couple sitting at the table over gives him an astonished look, and Louis has the audacity to glare back at them until they look away shamefaced.

Zayn looks unamused. “How do you know his middle name, Lou?”

“I found his birth certificate, _anyway_ , do you know what he did today?” Louis cries in exasperation.

Zayn looks back down at his book sadly. “What did he do today?” Zayn prompts, knowing he’s going to hear regardless.

“He made me sing in front of the class!” Louis slumps into a chair, head in hands, peeking between his fingers. His eyes are wide and sad and he just kind of looks like a puppy who wants a treat.

“Lou…you love singing in front of people?”

“No! I don’t!” Louis insists, face frowning more and more pitifully by the second.

“You sing all the time literally everywhere we go…” Zayn eyes Louis suspiciously, who just slides down in his seat even more, resting his cheek gently against the table. “Lou?”

“Myvoicecracked.”

Zayn stares. “Sorry, a little louder? And slower?”

“My. Voice. Cracked.”

Zayn claps a hand over his mouth and he’s trying, he’s trying so so hard, but he really can’t help the laughter that spills over his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Louis grumbles, sitting up now, but looking at his hands dejectedly. He had practically sprinted out of the classroom after it had happened, too embarrassed to even look at Harry Styles for the rest of the section.

Damn Harry Styles and his curly hair and face and clothes and for being his TA, Louis thinks.

“I’m sorry, Boo?” Zayn asks, still smiling, hints of laughter in his voice.

Louis can tell he’s trying to be supportive, but really all he wants to do is hide for the rest of his life because his voice cracked like he was a little boy going through puberty and he was trying to be a damn professional singer, and-

“Oh. Oh no. Zayn hide me,” Louis whimpers, reaching across the table to grab Zayn’s snap back right off his friends’ head. Zayn, bewildered, looks around the room, failing to find what has gotten Louis to go off his rockers.

“Give that back, I have hat hair.”

Louis pulls the cap forward, practically covering his eyes. “Emergency here, Zee. I need it,” he hisses.

“Lou.” Zayn tries again, his voice warm and calm. “Can I please have my hat?”

“Can I have your jacket too?” Louis makes grabby hands and simultaneously sinks further in his chair.

“Louis-“

“Shhhhh!” Louis brings his pointer finger to his lips.

Zayn raises his voice, “Louis Tomlinson, what has gotten into yo-“

“Damnit Zayn! Why?” Louis wails, but then flings the snapback at Zayn, straightening up considerably in his chair and feigning casualty. “Harold! Fancy seeing you here…”

Zayn looks up to find none other than Harry Styles standing right next to their table in all his skinny jeans and green flannel glory. A cup of coffee is in one hand- taken black, from the smell of it- and a book- _The Casual Vacancy_ by J.K. Rowling- is in his other; a tan rucksack on his back, hanging from one shoulder.

“My name isn’t Harold, Louis. I’ve told you this,” the curly-haired grad student admonishes, cheeks flushed a little.

“Professor Harold?” Louis tries again, doing a fairly decent job at hiding his embarrassment still lingering from earlier.

Harry looks at Zayn, who is putting his book away in his backpack.

“This place is packed,” Harry notes, eyes searching the café for a table and finding none.

Zayn stands, looking at Louis with a wicked grin. “Well, I’ve got class. You can take my seat if you’d like, I’m sure Lou wouldn’t mind, would he?”

Louis’ jaw drops. “Zayn,” he hisses, eyes wide.

“You don’t mind _at all_ , do ya, Lou?” Zayn asks again.

“No, no not at all,” Louis offers meekly.

“Great, thanks man,” Harry smiles brightly. “I’m Harry Styles. Studying composition.”

“Zayn Malik. You two have fun!” Zayn leaves with a wave.

Louis begins to pull out his ipod hurriedly, not wanting to make this situation any worse by talking. This little crush thing was bad enough, but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he actually spoke with Harry out of class.

As much as he fantasizes about his extremely gorgeous TA and likes playing with fire, he’s not sure if he wants to be burned.

“Watcha listening to?” Harry asks, eyes meeting Louis’ curiously. He looks so genuine, too.

Fuck, Louis groans internally.

“Demi Lovato’s new album came out the other day. I’ve had it on repeat.”

~O~

“Fuck you,” Louis spits the moment he enters Zayn’s apartment. “Why would you do that?”

Zayn pushes him against the door, fingers fumbling with his zipper and belt.

“Would a blow job make it better?”

Louis considers saying no, but instead, replies, “I had to sit there and talk to him for _four_ hours. Zayn. _Four hours_.”

“Do you want this or not?” Zayn yanks down Louis’ boxers.

“Of course I do! That curly-haired fucker grad student asshole TA wound me up so  much-“ Louis gasps when Zayn sucks him in.

Louis adds breathlessly, “I’m going to say his name when I come just to spite you.”

~O~

Louis never was one to stay obsessed with something for very long, his interests changing rapidly, practically faster than the seasons.

Harry Styles was proving to be something else, though.

Four more weeks, Louis thinks. Four more weeks and then he won’t be my TA and I won’t have to see him again.

~O~

“You’re what?” Louis deadpans, as if he heard the other lad wrong.

“I’m going to be your TA next quarter, too!”

“You _what?_ ” And no. Louis heard wrong. No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

“I get to torture you for another quarter, young Tommo,” Harry smiles, as if this was a good thing.

But another quarter meant ten more weeks of fantasizing for Louis, and ten more weeks of Harry being immoral to hook up with, and ten more weeks of just pure torture.

“Oh? That’s…great.”

Harry doesn’t seem to see the troubled thoughts splaying across Louis’ face as he beams back.

~O~

End of Louis’ Part.

~O~


End file.
